What Good are Gifts?
by SophieSaulie
Summary: Dean and Sam are trapped by the demon masquerading as their father. My take on how I would have ended Devil's Trap Spoilers for those who haven't seen the episode. Thanks to Tiffany for her invaluable input.


**What Good are Gifts?**

Sam had heard Dean scream. He had never heard Dean scream. He always had a "laugh in the face of death" attitude, something he once teased him about. He possessed a control over pain that amazed Sam, enduring what seemed to him, at times, to be an insurmountable amount of it. Hearing him cry out was telling him more than words ever could. The demon inside their father was causing horrific damage. Sam kept trying to focus to get the gun, but began to realize that hearing Dean in so much pain affected his concentration. He had never felt so helpless. Try as he might to call upon the telekinesis that had saved Dean from getting shot by Max, he couldn't bring it forth. He pulled at the restraining power of the demon to get free, but to no avail. What good was having the powers, if he couldn't call upon them when someone he loved needed him? What was wrong with him? Dean's cries of agony tore into Sam as his desperation grew.

"Dad! Dad! Don't you let it kill me!" Dean implored, hoping to reach out to whatever was left of their father, but the request seemed to fall on deaf ears and Dean was again assaulted with more pain.

Dean's thoughts were only to keep conscious. The first assault of pain cut into him deeply and he wasn't prepared for the searing intensity of it. He threw his head back, squeezed his eyes closed and tried to bite back a scream, but couldn't hold back the agonized groan that was wrenched from his throat. _"Oh, god,"_ he thought to himself, _"I can't let this monster get Sam"._

The second assault, after he angrily tried to reach their father, felt as if the demon had reached into his chest and squeezed his heart. The pressure was excruciating and he could barely breathe. Blood seemed to flow every time his heart struggled to beat. His mind fought against defeat, he had to survive to keep Sam safe somehow. As the pain tore into him, he kept thinking that he was grateful it wasn't Sam. _"Better me than him"_, he thought to himself. _"I have to keep it from Sam,"_ Dean thought, almost prayed like a mantra in his head. It gave him a focus to concentrate on. He would do anything to protect him from this monster, but between the pain and the blood loss, the world was beginning to swim in front of him. He was more afraid of losing consciousness before he could find a way out of this. He had to reach his father, reach him from inside the demon's defenses and break him free.

Sam watched in horror at all of the blood coming from Dean's chest. He struggled and struggled, calling out to him, but he wasn't getting an answer, just moans and quick breathing. He felt guilty for not standing up to the demon's taunts about him being dad's favorite and that Dean needed them more than they needed him. He knew, for himself, that it wasn't true. He definitely needed Dean. He couldn't even imagine a life without him. When he was at Stanford, he had missed him. Running away to college had not succeeded in helping him escape his isolation. If anything, other than Jess, he felt even more alone there. He didn't realize how much Dean had made him feel like he wasn't different, at least not around him. He would never have to say anything to make Sam feel less alone. Just his presence was enough.

He hated himself now for telling Dean he didn't want to stay and hunt with him when they thought they were facing the demon that killed their mom and Jess weeks ago. He had told him that once the demon was gone, Dean would have to let him go his own way.

"_I want us to be a family again." _

"_Dean, we are a family. I'd do anything for you, but things will never be the way they were before."_

"_Could be."_

"_I don't want them to be. I'm not gonna live this life forever."_

It was a slap in the face to a man who only wanted to have his family together. Nothing more. It was a meager hope, that Sam had crushed without giving even a second thought to how it would hurt Dean. It was the cruelest thing he could have ever done to him. Cutting him and letting him bleed to death would have been more merciful. Now all Sam wanted was to have that family, especially Dean.

"Dad, please…" Dean pleaded again.

Sam heard the most terrifying thing in his life, the fading voice of his strong-willed, indomitably spirited brother. He was gasping in pain, begging their father to save him.

Another wave of pain seized Dean and he closed his eyes for moment, but then like a slowly spreading ink stain, darkness began to envelope him and a part of him welcomed the peace from the pain that it would provide, but he was also scared to death that he would be leaving Sam to an even worse fate. Knowing his body was failing him and that there was nothing he could do to fend it off, the veil of darkness overwhelmed him. Sam saw Dean go still and screamed his name. Inside of him, he felt a cold sensation grapple his heart.

"_No, no, he's not dead"_ he thought to convince himself. _"I'd know it. I'd feel it."_ Sam thought again. He was watching his worst nightmare. None of the ones that had invaded his sleep over the past year, not even Jess dying, could compare to the one nightmare he dreaded the most. The nightmare he never wanted to acknowledge was losing his brother, to face his death.

He then heard the soft, distressed voice of their father as he took back control of his body.

"Stop…Stop it…" He plaintively said.

Suddenly, Sam found himself released and after a moment's hesitation, he grabbed the gun from the table as the demon regained control again and turned to face him.

"You kill me, you kill daddy." It taunted.

"I know." Sam acknowledged then shot his father in the right thigh.

He fell and it was just enough to release Dean. He also fell painfully, the impact to the floor waking him from blissful unconsciousness to the awareness of intense, brutal pain and his throat clogged with blood. He took in a raspy breath then coughed. It caused a ripple effect of pain throughout his body. Sam ran over to him as quickly as he could, being watchful as he walked by their father's body to make sure the demon wasn't playing a trick on him.

"Dean, hey, oh god, you lost a lot of blood."

"Where's dad?" Dean gasped, his voice breathless and shaky.

"He's right here. He's right here, Dean." Sam assured.

"Go check on him." Dean said, feeling the pain rise up, but barely holding it back. His only thought was to keep Sam from seeing how badly hurt he really was.

"Dean…" Sam said.

"Go check on him…" his voice cracking, the only giveaway that he was having trouble breathing.

Sam reluctantly left his side to check on their father. Once Sam's back was turned, Dean allowed himself to let go of the control he had on his pain and grimaced. It was the worst pain he had ever experienced and for the first time, he wasn't sure if he was going to make it. It ripped into him with every breath he took. He felt himself fading into unconsciousness again, but he was pulled back by the shouting voice of their father. He heard him begging Sam to shoot him, to end it then and there. He felt Sam weakening and he had to help him, stop him. Their dad was wrong. It wasn't worth everything. Dean knew that if Sam pulled the trigger and killed their father, he would never get over it. It would haunt him for the rest of his life and whatever life awaited them afterwards would be a shell, it would be empty, there would be no closure, not for Sam, not for Dean. Guilt would be the last and only demon they would never defeat. He heard Sam cock the gun.

"Sam, don't you do it. Don't you do it." Dean pleaded.

Dean, with whatever strength he had left, tried to counter everything their father was telling Sam.

Though he couldn't see his face, Dean felt the anguish course through Sam and hated adding to it, but he had to try to stop him. He wasn't doing it to save their father, not completely. He was doing it to save Sam's soul.

"Sam, no…" he whispered, no strength left to say it any louder.

He then watched as Sam lowered the gun, unable to kill their father, uttering "I can't" under his breath. After a few moments later, he heard their father scream and watched the demon expel itself from his body just as his progeny had left Meg. After it was gone, a stony silence filled the air. He allowed himself to relax, but there was regret that their father would make Sam feel lousy about not shooting him. Dean felt for Sam. He was proud of him, but their father would make him feel like he had failed. He wondered if his pride would be good enough for Sam.

Sam tucked the gun behind his back and went to Dean's side, feeling he needed his help more than their father. The look of disappointment in his father's eyes was just too much for him to deal with now and it wasn't important. Dean was more important.

"Dean? Dean?" He asked, a tremble of fear in his voice.

Sam lifted him up carefully, but Dean shook with pain and groaned.

"Sorry…" Sam said, his voice was filled with confusion and uncertainty.

Dean saw how upset Sam was and knew he was feeling like he couldn't do anything right.

"Not your fault, Sam…none of this is your fault…" Dean emphasized as he swallowed and breathed with difficulty, trying to gain control of the pain. "Don't you let dad get to you, you hear me? You did the right thing." Dean whispered, unable to draw enough breath to say it with any more conviction. "He may not see it that way now, but you did."

Sam didn't look or feel like he had done the right thing.

"I let it get away. Maybe dad's right…maybe I should have ended it." Sam said, not sounding convinced.

"No, Sam…I know it was hard…for you…it's okay…I know you wanted to and you came close…"

Sam was shocked at the revelation. How could Dean have known that there was a part of him that wanted to pull the trigger on the gun, to destroy the demon for their mom, for Jess even if he had to sacrifice their father to do it.

"How did you-" Sam asked then became somber. "I wanted to kill him, Dean."

"No, Sam, you wanted to kill the demon, not dad. There's a big difference." Dean corrected. "Believe me, you have good reasons…but you knew that you couldn't kill dad to do it. I'm proud of you."

Sam looked into Dean's pain-filled eyes and felt his pride. It eased the guilt of letting the demon go.

"But it felt right to pull the trigger." Sam said, concerned about feeling a dark side to him. "It scared me."

"It's okay to be scared…I get scared too…but you're not alone, Sam…you have me…you'll always have me."

Dean's words gave Sam the secure, brotherly protection that he needed. He always seemed to find a way to say the right thing from the sarcastic jibe, to the harsh reality check, to the sincerest reassurance, even under the most horrific of situations, of which this ranked high, if not at the top, even above losing Jess. As much as he loved their father, Dean had always been there for him, even when he had hurt him. Dean had never judged him, had never doubted his abilities. He had never left him like their father had until he drove him to it that one time. Even after all he had said to him then, Dean had called to share his findings on the case he was working on. He had made the first move to call and had even started to apologize, to take the blame for their fight even though Sam knew it was his fault. He had told him he was proud of him then too.

"I know, Dean." Sam said, emotion in his voice.

Dean smiled, but couldn't hold back a rush of pain and stiffened rigidly, his hand fisted the floor, wanting to hang onto something to fend it off. He was weakening and he couldn't hide it anymore so he stopped trying. He groaned and grunted. The pain was relentless and unforgiving.

Sam then realized that he needed to get Dean and their dad some help.

"Oh, god, Dean, I need to get you to a hospital, dad too."

"Dad?" Sam called, but there was no answer.

He walked over to him and saw that he had passed out. He shook him and groggily, he started to awaken.

"Dad? I need your help. Dean is in really bad shape. We have to get him into the car. Are you okay enough to stand?"

He just nodded, "Just help me up."

Sam did and then both of them went to Dean.

"Dean, this is going to hurt, but –" Sam explained.

"Do it, Sam."

Sam couldn't help, but smile. His strong, macho brother had returned. Though it was reassuring and typical of Dean to hide his pain, Sam knew that underneath was a man fading fast and exerting every ounce of self-control he could to keep his family from knowing how bad off he really was.

Sam lifted Dean from the floor. He groaned and hissed from the pain. Dean was amazed at the fresh waves of pain that kept hitting him despite feeling so weak. He hated being unable to maintain his "tough guy" exterior, if for no other reason than to keep them from worrying about him. Their dad hoisted him up onto his shoulders on the other side to lift him the rest of the way. Dean's body seized with more pain.

Dean clenched his eyes closed. It took everything he had in him to keep unconsciousness at bay. He was dangerously close to losing it. He felt both his father and Sam lay him into the back seat of the Impala.

"Man…" Dean said in that mock whiny voice he used sometimes for humorous effect.

"What?" Sam asked, concerned.

"All this blood…is going to…wreck the upholstery." Dean joked, smiling and winking weakly, reassuring Sam as only he could that he was still with him, then he grimaced again.

Sam smiled back and thought to himself, _"How does he do that?"_

Suddenly, Dean trembled, feeling numb and cold. Though the pain felt like it was farther away, every time he moved or took a breath he was reminded that he hadn't left the living yet. _"Not entirely a bad thing"_ Dean thought to himself, but staying in the world of the living was getting harder to do, everything was becoming blurrier, breathing was more like swallowing air as opposed to inhaling it, and sounds were becoming muffled.

Sam spotted Dean's tremble, took off his jacket and put it over him. He knew enough to know that Dean was falling into shock.

"Thanks." Dean said so softly, Sam barely heard him.

With one last burst of fading strength, Dean grabbed Sam's arm.

"Sam…" He hitched a breath. "I'm proud…to be your brother…don't you forget that…"

The monumental effort to hold onto him left him exhausted and he let go, his hand dropping to his side. Sam's eyes welled up.

"I won't…" Sam pleaded. "Hang on, Dean. Please, for me, hang on."

Dean looked into his brother's eyes and could only nod.

"_I'm trying, Sammy…"_ Dean thought to himself. _"But hurry."_

"Dad, get in the car." Sam commanded.

Dean couldn't help but sneak a smile on his face. _"That's my boy, you tell him."_ He thought to himself.

Sam started the car and began to drive off. The first few minutes were filled with deafening silence, just the rumble of the Impala's engine permeated the stillness.

"Look, just hold on, all right? The hospital's only 10 minutes away." Sam finally said to their father after he heard him hiss with his own pain.

"I'm surprised at you, Sammy. Why didn't you kill it? I thought we saw eye-to-eye on this killing this demon comes first, before me, before everything." Their dad said back.

Sam looked into the rear view mirror and saw Dean, his face pale and his eyes glassy.

"No, sir, not before everything." Sam said and felt proud saying it, he only hoped Dean had heard it, just so he'd know that he had been right all along and that Sam was finally coming to the same conclusion, that it wasn't worth everything. It wasn't worth losing their family. It wasn't worth losing Dean. "Look, we still got the Colt, we still have the one bullet left. We can start over, all right? I mean, we already found the demon once –"

The crash was jolting and rattled every bone in Sam's body then darkness fell over all of them.

**oooo**

Sam woke up in the emergency room, afraid and unsure of what was happening around him. He heard shouting, something like "Again!" and what sounded like something charging up then a thumping sound. A few seconds later, it repeated. As he turned his head to follow the noise, his eyes cleared to see doctors and nurses. They were hovering over someone and it was now obvious they were trying to restart a heart with a defibrillator. As his eyes moved up the gurney they were surrounding, what he saw sucked the breath right out of him. It was Dean they were working on. Tears immediately began to pool in his eyes and panic rose up inside of him. He was shaking.

"Dean? DEAN! DEAN!" He screamed. "No, Dean!"

A couple of nurses came over to him as well as an orderly and he gently tried to hold him down on the gurney.

"Relax, son." One of the nurses said.

"No, no, that's my brother, that's Dean!" Sam was becoming hysterical as he continued to hear the activity next door and words that were only vaguely registering like "epi" and watching them switch off to doing CPR on Dean's chest.

"It's all right. The doctors are working on him right now." She nodded to the other nurse to close the curtain.

When she did, Sam only got more agitated because now he couldn't see him.

"No, don't, I need to see him! I need to know he's all right, please, please!" Sam pleaded.

"You need to calm down or you'll hurt yourself. You won't be any good to your brother then, now will you?" the nurse said. "Now, I'm going to give you a sedative –"

"No, please don't. I don't want to lose consciousness. My brother needs me! He needs to know I'm here. Please!"

The nurse injected Sam with the sedative and the orderly held onto him until his body started to relax.

"No, you don't understand…he needs me…I need him…Dean…no, Dean…" Sam said as he drifted off to sleep against his will.

The nurse looked sympathetically at him and then over to the doctors who were still working on his brother.

"I've never seen such a bond between brothers like that. I sure hope he makes it because if he doesn't, I get the feeling this young man won't either." She said to the orderly and other nurse.

**oooo**

Sam groggily awoke again in a hospital room. Every time he moved, he felt sore and in pain. He also had a blinding headache.

"Mr. Simmons?" said a young nurse with a small tray of medications.

Sam turned to her, unsure and scared.

"I need to give you your meds, can I help you sit up?"

"My brother? Where-?"

"I'm afraid I don't know, sir, but I can find out for you. What's his name?" She smiled as she helped him sit up and then gave him the pills along with a cup of water.

"Dean. He came in the same time as me."

"I'll look him up if you swallow your meds." She bargained deftly.

Sam reluctantly agreed, if for no other reason than to have anything ease his pain, especially his headache.

"Thanks." He said after swallowing the pills.

"Sure. I'll be back once I find out something."

Sam nodded lightly so as to not jar the blood in his head.

Moments later, she came back in and she looked sad and serious. Sam became immediately frightened.

"What? What is it?" He asked frantically.

"Mr. Simmons, I'm sorry to have to tell you this, but your brother passed away last night."

Sam's eyes grew wide with horror and denial.

"No, there must be some mistake…" he insisted.

"I'm afraid that he died when you came in, they couldn't revive him."

"What?" Sam gasped. "No, you have to be wrong! No, no…"

"I'm sorry."

Sam's eyes filled with tears. "NO!"

**oooo**

Sam woke up again, noticing that his eyes were sore and his throat was stinging with pain, then the slow realization began to dawn as his head cleared. A nurse had told him that Dean was dead. That he had died last night as he watched them working to revive him. After she told him, he remembered being sedated again because he had become hysterical with denial, repeating the word "no" and Dean's name over and over again. As his thoughts began to clear, he still refused to believe that Dean was gone. _"He can't be gone,"_ Sam thought to himself, disbelief still etched on his face. He needed proof and he was going to demand it. He wouldn't believe it until he saw Dean's body for himself and that thought alone left him feeling completely grief-stricken.

Suddenly, as an afterthought, he realized that he hadn't heard about his father. He didn't know if he was even alive.

The same nurse, who had told him about Dean, came back in. She had a sympathetic smile and Sam had remembered how understanding she had been during his hysteria.

"How are you feeling, Mr. Simmons."

"It's Sam and better." Sam said sadly, "I'm sorry about my reaction earlier."

"No need, uh, Sam." She smiled nervously. "I completely understand. You must have loved your brother very much."

Sam nodded.

"Do you need anything?" She asked kindly.

"Just one thing, actually two." Sam adjusted, remembering that he had to ask about his father.

"Anything I can do to help."

"My father also came in with my brother and me last night. I was wondering about how he was." Sam said, his voice choking up a little. "And…"

Sam hesitated asking the question about Dean's body. It seemed impossible to think the words, let alone say them.

"And?" The nurse encouraged.

"I need to see my brother, uh, to make arrangements for his…" Sam couldn't hold back the tears again and his body started to shake with the imminent sobs. "To say goodbye to him…"

"I understand. I'll find out what I can. What's your father's name?"

"John." Sam replied.

"I'll see what I can do."

"Thanks for being so kind." Sam said.

"You're welcome, Sam. I just wish there was more I could do for you."

Sam nodded as she left. He laid back and just let the sobs overtake him again.

"It can't be true, Dean…" He rasped through his tears. "I still can't believe it."

Sam closed his eyes and memories of the last time he saw Dean flooded into his mind.

"_I'm proud…to be your brother…don't you forget that…"_

"_It's okay to be scared…I get scared too…but you're not alone, Sam…you have me…you'll always have me."_

"Dean, I feel so alone. I don't know what to do…"

**oooo**

The nurse returned to Sam's room about an hour later.

"Sam?"

He turned and wiped his tears off his face.

"Yeh."

"I found your father, he's a few doors down from your room and he's doing well. He has a concussion and a broken leg. If you want to visit him, I can wheel you down to him."

Sam wondered why she hadn't mentioned the gunshot wound to his leg, but couldn't ask without drawing suspicion so he let it go.

"Does he know about my brother?" Sam asked.

"I'm afraid I don't know." She said honestly.

"And my brother?" Sam asked tentatively, torn between needing to know and not wanting to know.

"I've talked with the doctors who worked on your brother and they said it would be all right for you to see him, as long as there was someone with you." She said trying very hard to word things in just the right way so that Sam wouldn't get upset.

Sam noticed and smiled at her appreciatively. "Thanks so much for your help. I've appreciated it. Uh, I would like to see my brother as soon as I can…I just need some time to…"

"I understand." She said to spare him from saying anything more. "Let me find out if I can take you."

Sam could only nod.

"I think I should see my dad first."

"Sure, let me get you a wheelchair."

She went into a closet in the room and pulled out a chair.

"Can you make it into it?"

Sam nodded, lifted himself out of the bed and sat in the chair. She wheeled him down to his father's room silently. She stopped in front of it.

"Are you ready?" She asked, being sensitive about what Sam might face in there.

"Yeh, thanks."

She opened the door and wheeled him in. His father was lying in the bed, awake, but not even taking in who had come into his room. _"He knows,"_ Sam thought to himself.

"Thanks, I can take it from here."

"Sure. I'll be by your room as soon as I know."

"Thanks again."

The nurse left the room and the silence seemed impenetrable, but Sam wheeled towards the bed.

"Dad –" Sam started.

"Do you know?" his dad asked, emotionless at first.

"Yeh, I do."

"I killed him, Sammy."

Sam was taken off guard by the admission even though he knew it wasn't true.

"No, dad, the demon killed him."

"It was in me. Dean begged me to save him and I didn't…I couldn't… I wasn't strong enough." His father said, finally letting small sobs surface. "What I said to him, to you. What I did to him…"

Sam felt a kinship with his father that he had never known in the past. Even admitting that time when they were going to fight the vampires that they were more alike because of the shared loss of the women they loved, this was completely different. Dean was a part of them both and losing him was like dying themselves.

"Dad, it wasn't you, you have to know that. Dean knew that. Why do you think he called out to you? He knew you were still there fighting. I know that."

"It wasn't enough!" His father said with rage.

"Nothing was enough…" Sam said softly, remembering his own failure at trying to stop the demon. "I had all these…powers, gifts, whatever you want to call them and I couldn't even lift the gun…maybe if I had…what good are gifts if I can't use them? I couldn't save him, dad."

Sam let his own guilt wash over him and he was sobbing again. He didn't think he would ever stop crying. His father saw Sam's pain and reached his hand out to touch his in a show of fatherly compassion.

"No, son, don't you ever blame yourself for what happened. Dean wouldn't want that and you know it. He loved you more than anything. He loved this family more than anything. I hate to think that he passed believing anything the demon said to him because it isn't true, Sam. I love you both."

"I know, dad. He knew. He always told me that no matter what, you loved us."

Sam choked on his sobs again.

"I miss him, dad."

"I know, son. So do I." His father said and pulled him into an embrace.

Sam shook with sobbing and clamped onto his father as if he were 5 years old again.

**oooo**

Sam left his father's room and came back to his, but stayed in his chair. He was hoping that the nurse would come by and take him to Dean. A part of him was scared and hoped she wouldn't come, but another had to see Dean again. He needed that closure that everyone always talks about.

The nurse finally came in.

"I got all of the proper channels okayed, so I'm ready, if you are." She said, but got a moment of silence. "If you want to wait –"

"No, I have to do this."

"Okay."

"By the way, I'm sorry, I didn't get your name."

"Kendall."

"Thanks again, Kendall."

"It's okay."

Kendall wheeled Sam to the elevator and they descended a few floors. She wheeled him down a long corridor and then stopped at an innocuous door. On it, it said, Morgue. Sam shivered.

"Are you sure you want to do this now?"

"Yeh, I mean, I'll never really be ready, but I need to do this."

Kendall nodded in understanding and wheeled him into the room. She took him to another, more private room.

"I had the orderly move your brother in here so you wouldn't have to be around the other…well, you know." Kendall said.

Sam was grateful for her kindness.

"Thanks very much."

Ahead of him was a body, his brother's body, covered in an opaque white sheet, but his face was already revealed. Another one of Kendall's kindnesses, he suspected. Sam couldn't stop trembling. His hands were quaking, not so much from fear, but from dread. He knew once he did this, he'd have nothing to deny.

"Sam, you have to know that he still has the injuries he suffered. He's not…" She struggled for the right words, wanting to warn him. "…prepared. It might be a little upsetting."

"It's okay, I understand. Thanks again for being so kind to me."

"It's not a problem. I have to tell you, when I see how strongly you feel about your brother, I find myself admiring your relationship with him. I have a sister and she and I always seem to be at each other's throats. I see how much you are hurting and I feel it myself. Your bond with him is so strong. It transcends death."

"Thanks. Dean and I, we weren't perfect, but he practically raised me after our mother died. He was more than a brother in a lot of ways. He…never let me down, you know? He always put me first, above just about everyone and everything…I never thanked him for that. I…" Sam choked. "He was my hero."

Kendall saw the look of want in Sam's eyes and squeezed his shoulder.

"I'll leave you alone, but it can only be for a few minutes."

Sam nodded and flashed a shaky smile. Kendall left the room, leaving Sam to roll over to Dean. He stood up and looked at him. His face was spotted with dried blood and he saw a cut on his cheek. _"God, he's really gone,"_ Sam thought to himself.

"Dean, I'm sorry…I'm so sorry…I didn't save you." Sam broke down. "I'm sorry for letting you down in so many ways. I can't stop thinking about how all you wanted was to have your family back, to have us back and I…" Sam paused as he wiped his tears away. "I told you I didn't want that, that I didn't want that life or to share the hunting with you. It didn't matter that I told you we were already a family. I missed the point. You didn't want the label. You wanted us. You wanted me with you. You didn't want to be alone. I see that now. I just completely ignored what you wanted. Even after all we had gone through this year, after all you had done for me, I still just wanted to escape. It wasn't you, though. I hope you knew that."

Sam's voice then filled with disdain for himself. "How you could know? I never bothered to explain it to you, thinking you could never understand." His voice then softened again, "But I was wrong. You understood. If there was anyone who could, it was you. You lived the life like I did. You just knew your place in this world. You faced it while I ran away."

Sam looked into his brother's peaceful face, but could find no peace in his own heart.

"I'll never get over this, Dean…I feel so empty…so lost…I need you back so much. I'm sorry…"

He then placed his hand on Dean's shoulder, just as a way to have one last contact with him. When he did, a blinding pain hit him. It cut through his mind unlike any other vision he had ever had. The images were scattered, but he saw Dean in his last hours.

He had been still alive when they brought him in. Sam saw him cough and struggle to breathe. He had asked the doctors about him and if he was going to be all right. They pointed him to where he was, unconscious on the next gurney. Dean looked over, a worried expression on his face. He asked them if Sam was okay and they told him that he was unconscious, but only had what looked like minor injuries. Dean heaved a sigh of relief, knowing that Sam was okay then laid back down on his own gurney. He nodded as the doctors checked him out and asked him questions. Suddenly, something dark hovered over Dean, but he didn't see it. It enveloped him and Sam saw a flow of energy leave him and into the dark form. Dean stiffened in pain, groaned and fell limp. The heart monitor then went flat line. That's when the doctors began working on him furiously to bring him back to life and what Sam saw as he regained consciousness.

The vision ended and Sam was thrust back into the Morgue, but he felt something on his arm. He looked down and saw Dean's hand gripping it and his face seized in pain. Another flow of energy passed between them and Dean's eyes clenched tightly as he gasped for breath. Sam felt pain, but something else too, something life giving. The energy enveloped them both just as the darkness had with Dean. It wrapped around them and each of them felt something warm enter their bodies. It was comforting, reassuring, yet there was strength there, revitalizing them both, healing them both. It was so strong that when it was finally disconnected, Sam found himself flat on the floor.

"My God, Dean…" Sam uttered in hushed shock as he regained his senses.

He got up and looked at his brother. Dean was heaving in shallow breaths and seemed dazed and confused, but the first thing that came into his mind, as it always did, was Sam.

"Sam? You all right?" he said, his voice hoarse and raw.

Sam smiled, but also felt like he was overflowing with emotions, on the verge of crying again at hearing his brother's voice.

"Am I all right? Yeh, I'm fine, are **you** okay?" Sam asked with a mixed sense of relief and worry all at the same time. Sam always marveled at how often Dean put him before himself.

"I think so. Pretty good, considering." Dean twitched in pain.

"Liar." Sam said with a trembling smile, knowing how much Dean had already gone through, but grateful that the same old Dean was back, the brother who had always protected him, been there for him no matter what.

"What happened?" Dean asked.

"What do you remember?"

Dean paused to think for a second then his eyes grew wide.

"I died." He said.

"Yeh." Sam answered back, choking with tears he couldn't stop then he sat in the wheelchair, tired and drained too.

Dean noticed Sam's exhaustion and that he looked like he had gone to hell and back, then his face grimaced in pain for a moment. Sam got concerned.

"What? What is it?" he asked.

"Sam, I'm sorry…" he said, as a look of realization fell on his face.

"For what?"

"For putting you through this."

"Dean, I don't –"

"Sam, I remember what happened, not just the dying, but I saw what you went through. I felt it just now. It flooded into my mind. I felt your pain."

Sam couldn't stop staring at his brother. He was alive. He was here with him. He thought he had lost him forever.

"Don't be sorry, Dean. I'm the one who should be sorry. When I lost you, I remembered all the things I did to you in the past and then when I couldn't save you, I just felt like I had failed you. I mean, I still wonder why I have these gifts if I can't use them to save you. What good are they?"

"Sammy, you have never failed me. There was nothing you could have done, nothing dad could have done. I knew that. I didn't tell you, but I was already dying before we got to the hospital. Only thing I needed to know before I died was that you were okay. Once I knew that, I let go. I let death take me."

"Did you see it?"

"See what? No, I just felt myself drift away, why?"

"I saw it take you. It was a darkness that covered you, but I saw it in the vision I had just now, then some other energy came through. I don't know what it was. It felt –"

"Warm." Dean finished.

"Yeh, almost comforting."

"Me too."

"Then you were back." Sam smiled.

Dean looked at Sam and grinned at him then said, "You look like hell, you know."

Sam laughed and let it flow. It felt so good. He thought he never would again.

"You should talk." Sam replied back.

In the shadows, Kendall listened in on the conversation and smiled. She then transformed into the image of their mother, Mary.

"Not just yet." She said. "You've much work to do and neither of you can do it alone. I'm so proud of you boys. I could not have hoped for better sons and for the kind of men you have become. I love you both."

She turned and disappeared into a mist.

Both Sam and Dean felt a soft, warm breeze touch their faces and then looked at each other.

"Did you feel that?" They chorused together.

11


End file.
